Reality
by Faithith01
Summary: Alternate Universe. Joey & Pacey grow up together, and eventually apart. Joey's on a downward spiral when she catches up with Pacey again.
1. Prologue

She took another hit, passing the bowl to the man on her left. An hour ago, she knew his name. And she was pretty sure she had fucked him, too. But that was before the pot, and before the crack, and before the mescaline.

A beer was passed to her on her right, and she took a swig, wincing at the lukewarm taste. She knew if she had been sober, she would have bitched about the beer being warm, but she no longer new what sober felt like.

Hell, for all she knew, this was sober.

The girl sitting across from her had taken off her shirt after her first pass on the bowl, and now the guys on either side of her were groping, biting, drawing blood, leaving bruises. That girl would be raped tonight, and not a single person in this room had enough brain cells left to stop it.

She felt a hand slip between her legs, and somewhere, deep inside her subconscious, alarms went off, but she couldn't distinguish between that and the loud music anymore. There was no protesting when the button was popped on her jeans, and her moan may very well have been a no, as the garment was pushed hastily over her hips. But no one paid them any mind.

When she was tossed over the back of the couch, ass in the air, there were a few mildly excited whistles, and a woman's screams from down the hall. He impaled her, making her cry out in pain, and as he moved in and out of her, tears ran down her face, dropping to the carpet. They disappeared, like he would, when he was done with her.

_No more,_ she thought, _never again. I'll never take another hit. I'll never swallow another pill. Never._

She felt him explode inside of her, and then she was alone, draped over the couch like the slut she had allowed herself to become. The embarrassment came and went quickly, as it always did after these things. It was nothing for her to pull her jeans back up and turn around for another hit.

It was life.

But as that joint came around again, she heard that small voice, the one she recognized as her own, beckoning from deep inside.

_Never again._

----

"Witter," a deep voice called, grabbing his attention, giving him ample time to catch the envelope that was tossed at his head. "Room four."

Pacey shook his head. When he had decided to become a drug counselor, he never counted on his days being spent in his father's precinct, preaching to the drug addicts of Metro Detroit. "Who is it this time, Mark?"

"I don't want to ruin the surprise." Mark waggled his eyebrows at him, which immediately told Pacey it was a female.

"Whatever." He tossed his cell phone at the man he shared a desk with. "Answer that if it rings, Doug. Dad's on his way back from Flint, he said he was going to call before he came in."

Doug simply nodded at him, his attention focused on the computer screen. Pacey shook his head again, not knowing if he should be worried his brother invested so much in his job, or if he should be proud.

He walked down the long hallway, immediately blocking out the eerie flickering halogen light effect that one usually sees in the movies. Pacey often wondered if the department bought defective lights on purpose, in order to give the 'criminals' an even greater sense of foreboding.

Pacey slipped the file folder out of the envelope, but didn't look at it before stepping into the room.

When he had a chance to look back on all of this later, he would tell himself he should have looked at that file before going through that door. But as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty, and once it's done, you can't take it back.

His first thought when he entered the room was that it was empty. But then he heard the quiet sound of restrained sobs. He'd been forced to endure that sound more times than he'd ever be able to count, but it never got any less heartbreaking.

People developed habits for different reasons. Low self-esteem, the need to belong, the need for something to hold on to, to replace something they thought they'd lost, to give them courage, to give them peace. The list could go on for hours, but to Pacey, it always came down to one thing. The addicts he'd worked with, the people that he'd tried to help, the souls he'd tried to help mend, they wanted love. Craved it, desired it, hungered for it. Some of his patients were loved beyond rhyme or reason, the people in their lives would have crawled to the moon and back for them, but for whatever reason, they couldn't see it.

And others... It broke his heart just to think about them. The ones that showed up in this room, lying broken and battered in the corner on the floor, making that noise that could literally tear your heart to pieces...

Those were the ones that Pacey fought for. They were the people that Pacey longed to give second chances to.

And when he looked at that girl, cowered in the corner, shaking uncontrollably, her tears forming a puddle on the floor, all he wanted to do was bundle her up, stick her in his pocket and shield her from everything.

But then she looked at him, and his heart, which was already lying bloody at his feet, shattered into a million and one pieces.

"Potter."


	2. Chapter One

"_I don't understand why you have to go away to school, Pacey. What's wrong with State?"_

"_I didn't get a scholarship to State. You did. And you only want me to go so you'll have someone to insult everyday." Pacey winked at her as he loaded the boxes into the back of his truck._

"_It would save me a lot of time on developing relationships," she remarked, sarcasm dripping from her words. "But I'm serious, Pacey. Why are you going away? It's always been you and me. The outcasts against the world."_

"_Jo, in case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly outcasts anymore. You graduated at the top of our class, and I got an athletic scholarship to Ohio State. You know I've always wanted to play with the Buckeyes. This is my chance to be something more. And you've got the world at your fingertips now, Jo. You're going to be a teacher. There's nothing better than that." Pacey gave her a mocking smile. "Or so I've heard."_

"_Pacey, I know this is going to surprise you, but I'm going to miss you." She looked at her shoes, tears filling her eyes. "A lot."_

_He pulled her into a hug. "Jo, you're not getting rid of me, and I'm not pushing you away, either. I mean, you're driving down with me and staying for a week, and then we're heading to Lansing for your first week. Classes don't start for another month, we have time."_

_Joey shook her head. "This doesn't feel right."_

"_Joey," Pacey murmured, but stopped when she held up a hand._

"_I know you don't put much faith into my feelings of doom, but I do. When this finality feeling washes over me, I don't dismiss it. Something is ending, and I'm terrified." Joey felt a tear slip from her eye and make its way down her face._

_Pacey brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. "I will not willingly let you fade out of my life, Josephine Potter. You've meant, and mean, more to me than you'll ever know." His hand tangled in her hair when he slipped it behind her neck. Softly, slowly, he pressed his lips to hers. It was gentle, and full of more emotion than she was capable of dealing with. "Jo, you're special to me. I'm not letting you go."_

_Joey could only look at him, knowing that if she lost him, it would be her doing._

----

Joey leaned back on her pillow and pushed the memory out of her mind. It had been popping up at the most inopportune times lately, and she knew exactly why. Pacey had called a week ago, to tell her all about his new girlfriend. His girlfriend, who he'd been seeing for the last seven months. Apparently, she had created the moon and the stars, and she was supposed to be just as thrilled by this as Pacey was.

He'd just have to forgive her if she hadn't danced around the room when she'd heard the news.

It wasn't as if she didn't want Pacey to be happy. She wanted that more than anything. She had just thought, that with that kiss, there was a promise of more for the two of them.

But she'd been wrong. Again.

So, instead of meeting him at home on the holidays, she stayed at school, lying about huge projects. She came home only when necessary, and she always made sure he was in Ohio when she did go home.

"Jo, there's a party at the Kappa house. You game?" Joey's suitemate, Miranda stepped through the threshold into Joey's room, and began picking through her closet.

"Who's all going with you?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. "My red tank top is still in your room, if that's what you're looking for."

Miranda grinned at her. "That's right. Remind me to yell at you about that."

"Maybe later. I'll get dressed and meet you guys down stairs, okay? I have to make a phone call."

"Yeah, no problem. My black skirt is hanging up in the bathroom if you're interested." Miranda winked at her, and sashayed out of the room.

Joey grabbed her cell phone off her desk, and pressed the all too familiar speed dial button. It rang twice, like it always did, and then someone picked up.

"Hello?" a sugary female voice came through the phone, shocking Joey to the core. What was she doing answering his cell phone? "Hello?"

"Sorry, wrong number," she muttered quickly before flipping the phone shut. "I'm not calling back," she said to his picture. "I won't do this anymore."

Joey quickly dressed in a hot pink halter and Miranda's black skirt. She'd developed quite the reputation at college, and at this moment, it didn't bother her one bit. Getting blitzed tonight would make Pacey drift away to a part of her mind that couldn't touch her when she was high. She'd leave him behind for a few hours and replace him with someone she wouldn't remember the next day.

She knew it wasn't a healthy cycle, but it worked. And it worked well. And slowly, day-by-day, it was getting easier and easier to leave Pacey behind for good.

----

"Who called?" Pacey asked, climbing back into the car, two coffee cups in hand.

"Wrong number."

"Let me see."

Courtney handed him the phone, taking the coffee from him. "It was a girl. Sounded kind of like that one chick that used to call you all the time. What was her name? Johnny?"

Pacey bit back a sharp retort. He was beginning to think that the reason Joey didn't call anymore was because Courtney found it necessary to answer _all_ of his phones. "Her name is Joey."

"How butch."

"Shut up." Pacey pressed the button to view his missed calls, and he wanted to punch something, or _someone_ when he saw that it had been her. "What did you say to her?"

"I didn't say anything to her. All I did was answer the phone. After I said hello, she grunted into the phone and hung up."

"Courtney, get out of the car."

"Excuse me?" Her blue eyes burned into his, her cheeks turning dark crimson. She was a gorgeous girl. Luscious, even. However, that wasn't the recipe for spectacular personality.

"You heard me. Your apartment is only three blocks from here. Get out of the car, and go home. I don't need this shit right now."

"Look, Pacey, just because your stupid little whore of a best friend can't deal with the fact that you have a girlfriend doesn't mean you can be an ass to me," she spat through clenched teeth.

"This has nothing to do with Joey."

"I have friends, Pacey. Friends who go to school with her. I've heard things. Drugs, parties, guys. She's obviously not the same person she used to be."

"Shut up and get out."

Courtney gave him a baleful glance. "I'll be by for my stuff tomorrow. Go visit her, Pacey. You'll see."

"Get out."

Courtney climbed out of the car and walked way, pausing only to dump her coffee on the passenger side door. She flipped him off before charging down the street towards her building.

Pacey paid her no attention, focusing on his phone, and wondering if he should call her or not. It was Friday, so she was probably holed up in her room studying.

"_Go visit her, Pacey."_ Courtney's voice taunted him. He knew Joey had changed since they went off to college, but he wouldn't even pretend to believe that it could be anything as horrible as what Courtney had just accused her of.

He tried her cell phone, getting only her voicemail. "Hey, it's Jo. You know what to do. I'll get back to ya." He hit the end button without leaving a message, knowing that she wouldn't call him back. He'd been an ass where she was concerned lately. He knew that her classes weren't going well. He'd heard that much from Bessie. And he knew that Joey wouldn't tell him if she was struggling, because she had too much pride.

He'd go visit her. Purely to assure himself that she was safe, that she was okay. That she was still there.

Because she had to be.

He didn't know what he would do if he lost her.


	3. Chapter Two

"Pacey?"

He was torn. Did he keep his distance like he had been trained, or did he go to her, pick her up, and save her?

"Why are you here? They said they were sending a counselor," she spat, curling tighter into the corner.

He stood where he was. This wasn't the Joey he remembered. There wasn't even a small part of her left. "I am the counselor, Joey. This is what I do."

"Why?"

He shrugged. Before, if he were asked this question, he had an answer. To help, to save, to mentor, to succeed. But with her, pretenses had always been worthless. "I guess when I found out what you'd become, I needed to do something to counteract it."

She eyed him openly. She had lost her shame too many years before to care what he thought of her now. "Well, I'm glad you found your place, Pacey. I know how worthless you would have felt if you hadn't."

"Jo, don't-"

"Shut up, Pacey. This has got to make you feel absolutely perfect. Your childhood best friend slumped in the corner of your father's precinct." Her gaze didn't waver when she saw the surprise register on his face. "Oh, I know who runs this station, Pacey. This isn't my first time here. Dougie has booked me a few times."

"He never-" Pacey trailed off, not sure if he should be angry they hadn't told him, or guilty because he hadn't asked.

Joey laughed, but the sound was harsh, and hurt his ears. It was nothing like he remembered. "I told him not to. And he knew you'd come find me, and I didn't want to be found."

"If that's the case, why are you here?"

"Well," Joey pulled herself into the chair at the table in the middle of the room. There was a pack of cigarettes and a matchbook, with a single match. She lit up, taking a deep drag, and she seemed to relax a little bit. "You see, Pacey, when you lead a life such as the one I have, you come to expect certain things. When you wake up in the morning, or the afternoon if you're doing things right, your first thought isn't 'I have to piss,' it's 'I need a hit.' So, that becomes your purpose. As I'm sure you've probably already guessed, it started with pot, freshman year of college. I started seeing this guy, and he was always so mellow. He didn't worry about papers, deadlines, money, anything. So, I tried it. It helped. I wasn't so uptight about school anymore; it didn't bother me that you were fucking Courtney after kissing me. None of that mattered anymore."

"Jo, Courtney was just a passing phase. She seriously didn't mean much of anything in the end."

"I don't know why you're trying to explain yourself, Pacey. This was all years ago. I don't care if you dumped Courtney, killed her, or married her. I don't care about much of anything anymore. But back to the point of this conversation, it was the crack that messed me up." She took another deep drag on her cigarette. "I wasn't addicted until then."

Pacey watched her. Her hair fell flat against her face and back; its natural shine no longer evident. Her eyes, still a deep chocolate brown, didn't have the same life they used to. And her face...her face was hard, and angry, a permanent scowl etched on her mouth. "Marijuana is a common-"

Joey snorted, disdain evident in the sound. "I don't want your textbook explanations or your pity, Pacey. I'm here because I was raped, and now I'm pregnant. And the worst part of it all, no one believes me. It's hard to convince people your story is plausible when you're a crack whore. But I've moved beyond that. Whoever it was won't get caught, because I don't really care enough about that whole part of it to raise a huge commotion. But I am pregnant, and my child will not have any part of the life I've chosen for myself. So, I came here. I figured there'd be some kind of program they could stick me into." She gestured around the room with her cigarette. "You know, like Crack Whores Anonymous, or something." She winked at him. "Of course, when you're a whore, it really is hard to stay anonymous, ya know?"

Little by little, his heart was rebuilding itself. Seeing her here, broken and unashamed, made him angry. Not with her, not with the system that had allowed her to fall through the gaps time and time again, but with himself. He was angry because he had known she was in trouble, and he hadn't actively tried to help her. He was angry, because no matter how many times his head tried to tell him none of this was his fault, his heart knew that he should have held tighter to her. "Joey, I want to help you."

"Well, that is your job, isn't it?"

"I can't be assigned to your case, we have a history." He set the file folder on the table in front of her. "Unless you sign a waiver."

"Whatever. Where's the waiver? I'd rather have someone who knows me anyway. This caseworker shit really gets on my nerves. Always wanting to know about your past, and if your daddy beat you. Really, Pacey, it's none of their goddamned business what happened to me in the past. Especially if most of it has nothing to do with what's happening right now."

"I understand, Jo. Honestly, I do. The whole process of gaining someone's trust can be tedious, and more often than not, frustrating as hell." He passed a sheet of paper and a pen to her, and waited for her to sign. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"No. That's why I'm here Pacey. If it were just me, it wouldn't matter that I haven't had my own bed in three years, but now I'm responsible for a whole other person, and that means change."

"Are you ready to change?"

"Probably not, but that's not the point. I'm here because while ruining my own life is something I've dealt with, I won't ruin my child's." She put the cigarette out, sliding the pack across the table towards Pacey. "Throw those out for me. I can't afford another pack, and if I keep them, I'll smoke them all."

"Where are you going to stay?" Pacey asked, rummaging through the file folder, slipping easily into the role of concerned counselor.

"I don't know," she snapped. Joey leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingertips rapidly on the tabletop. "Pacey, it's been two days since my last fix, if I get bitchy, you'll have to excuse me."

"You stopped on your own?" He was scribbling frantically on a blank sheet of paper at the back of the file, completely ignoring her outburst.

She watched him a moment before answering his question. It had been four years since she had last seen him, and she was high then. There weren't a lot of moments in the last four years that she remember clearly, but she'd always remember the times when she saw him, or thought of him. "Like I said, if it's just me, it doesn't matter. But there's a baby now. It's not just me anymore." She couldn't take her eyes off of him. The moment he had said her name her world had stopped crumbling, and turned its focus on him. And she hated herself for it.

"Do you want to keep this child?" Pacey asked, finally meeting her eyes.

She wanted to lie, and say no, so he would help her, but when he looked at her like that, with his heart on his sleeve, she'd never been able to lie to him. "Yes."

"This is going to be hard, Joey." He stuck his pen behind his ear, and leaned back in his chair. Taking a deep breath, he folded his arms across his chest. "You'll have to go into detox, and then there will be rehab, followed by counseling."

Her face was still tearstained, her eyes red-rimmed. She knew that she was thinner than she had ever been, and she hadn't eaten in almost four days. But she felt as if she had found the strength that had been taken from her so long ago. "If it saves this baby, I don't care what I have to do. I'd swim to Australia if I had to, Pacey."

His eyes filled with tears, but they wouldn't be shed here. "I'll find you somewhere to stay until I can get you in to the clinic. Do you have anything you need to pick up? Clothes, belongings, anything?"

"Everything I own is with me right now, Pacey."

He nodded. "Let me just take care of a few things, and then I'll be back to get you. Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving."

"I'll send Doug in with something."

"Pacey," she said, grabbing his hand before he could get up from the table. "Thank you. I know that I've been a horrible person, especially to you. Thank you for helping me."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "It's my job, Jo."

And just like that, the light that had begun to fight its way through her shield was put out, and her eyes flickered with something akin to hatred. "That's good to know."

"Joey, I-"

"I want to call Bessie," she said, cutting him off. She didn't look at him now, simply stared at the wall behind his head.

He sighed, accepting defeat. "I'll have someone bring you a phone."


	4. Chapter Three

Pacey sat outside Joey's building. It was one in the morning, and she wasn't home. Which, if he really thought about it, wasn't all that odd. It was a Friday night, and college campuses always had a party going on somewhere.

He just figured that she would have been home. Joey wasn't one to party.

Or, at least she hadn't been when they were in high school.

But they were in two different worlds now, and they had become two completely different people.

He had called her phone eight times in the last hour, and she hadn't answered once. He knew she had turned it off, because it was going straight to her voicemail. He wanted to talk to her. Needed to talk to her.

Hell, at this moment, he just needed to know that she was still alive.

To say that their relationship had changed in the last year would be an understatement. After three months of calling each other about every little thing that happened, Joey had started to get distant. She stopped calling about the little things that would happen, and soon, she stopped calling about the bigger things. He knew when she had exams; because Courtney had insisted on telling him everything about her friends in Michigan. She didn't call about her grades, she didn't call about her friends, she didn't call about her family – she just didn't call at all anymore.

And that's what had pissed Pacey off the most about her phone call this afternoon. Courtney didn't need to answer his phone for him. He had voicemail. He had an answering machine in his dorm. But she had found it necessary to always answer his phones when she was over. It was as if she thought that by doing so, she could control his social life and the people he associated with.

And he really hated that his relationship with Courtney had been the beginning of the end of his friendship with Joey.

But if he really thought about it, and he always refused to do so, their relationship falling apart could be traced all the way back to the casual way he treated her after kissing her.

But he refused to think about that kiss, because it meant too much to him.

He shifted on the bench, trying to get comfortable. He was going to wait for her.

Even if it meant sleeping outside her building.

----

Joey stared at her phone, the music from the ringer impossible to hear inside the Kappa house. The caller ID displayed _Prissy Whiner_, obviously meaning it was Pacey. He had changed his name in her phone the first time he visited her at college, telling her that since they were so far apart now, they'd only be calling to complain to each other about the distance, and the lack of intelligent acquaintances available at college. If things hadn't changed between them, she could have been sure that when she called him, it still said _Josie Piss in Boots_. But things had changed, and she didn't know him anymore.

She pressed a button on her phone to ignore the call, and slipped the phone back into her purse. She had been in the middle of following Marcus up the stairs to his bedroom for a little weed, and a lot of sex when Pacey called. She refused to believe it was any kind of omen against Marcus, because Pacey knew nothing of her current life. Hell, he didn't even know she was this close to failing. Her phone rang again, causing her purse to shake against her hip. She ignored it.

She climbed the stairs, waving to Miranda, purely to let someone know where she was going. Her phone vibrated once, telling her she had a voicemail. She almost pulled it out to listen, but Marcus was waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

"God, you're gorgeous," he said, running a hand down her arm. His fingers tangled with hers as he led her to his room, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Gorgeous? Really?" She looked at him, wondering if maybe he were slightly insane. "Are you already high?"

He laughed, shaking his head at her. "It's no use denying it, Joey. You are one delicious piece of woman."

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red as she walked through the doorway to his room. He shut the door, locking it. "You don't have a roommate?"

"Perks of being a senior in a frat. You get your own room." He winked at her, and went over to switch his desk lamp on. He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a rolled up plastic baggie. "Joint, or bowl?" he asked, shaking the bag open.

"Do you have a pipe?"

He winked at her, opening another drawer. "You, my darling Joey, are all kinds of hardcore."

Joey slipped her shoes off and dropped her purse onto the floor next to them.

"You know, if you want, I'm pretty sure I can score us some crack to go along with this pipe."

Joey thought about it a moment, knowing that this was a step she was going to come to eventually. "Yeah?" she asked, wondering just how long it would take him to find it, and if that would give her enough time to put her shoes back on and walk home.

"Let me find Brent, and I'll see what I can do."

She smiled at him as he left the room, waiting for him to close the door before grabbing her stuff and pressing her ear to the door.

The music downstairs was too loud for her to know if Marcus was anywhere within earshot, so she pulled the door open slowly. Peeking around the door, she saw him heading up another flight of stairs to the third floor, where there were four more bedrooms and another bathroom. Quickly, she ran down the stairs and out the front door.

_Home,_, she thought, racing down the front steps and toward her building.

----

Joey had been standing in the same spot for ten minutes. When she had left the frat party, the last thing she expected was to come back to her room to find him waiting for her.

It was also the last thing she wanted.

She pulled out her phone and hid herself behind a tree. Pressing the speed dial button, she couldn't help but grin in anticipation of his wakeup.

Pacey jerked awake as the phone buzzed in his pocket. Joey had to stifle her laughter as he fumbled with the phone.

"Ello?" his voice was heavy with sleep, and she felt her stomach drop to her feet.

"Can I ask what is you are doing outside my dorm at 2:30 in the morning?"

"Jo? Where are you? Are you upstairs? Why didn't you wake me up?" Pacey rambled into the phone, running a hand through his hair.

She stepped around the tree, and flipped her phone shut. She sat next to him, but didn't look at him. "What are you doing here?"

"It's good to see you too, Jo. How's school going?" Pacey ignored her statement completely, wanting this to go as smoothly as possible.

"Cut the crap, Pacey. What are you doing here?"

"Joey, look at me."

She simply shook her head. "You shouldn't have come."

"I tried to call, but you didn't answer your phone."

"I was busy."

"Jo-"

She looked at him now, her eyes devoid of any emotion at all. "It would be better if you left, Pacey. And please don't call me anymore."

He found himself without the ability to speak. He could only watch as she got up from the bench and walked away from him.

And walked right out of his life.


	5. Chapter Four

It was always hardest at night. When the darkness would swoop in, shrouding her in her own loneliness, that's when her strength wavered the most.

Not having pride does a funny thing to a person. It makes it easy to make that phone call to your estranged sister and ask for forgiveness. And it's easy to look at your former best friend and not care what he sees. But when the stars come out, it's so much harder to face yourself.

At night, it was quiet, and even when you abuse it with every chemical substance you can get your hands on, your mind always finds a way to click on as the sun sets. Old memories float back, and fresh tears forge new paths. The distant sound of a party can make you long for the things you've made yourself believe you can do without. A crying baby causes you to reach out to the mother you've long since lost, and the whisper of a kiss can kill you all over again.

Joey hated the darkness, more so even than she hated herself. At night, when you're alone, there's no warm body to seek out to bring the memories to a stop. At night, she would sell her left arm for a fix.

Calling Bessie had opened a door for her, and ironically enough, it had been the door to her old bedroom. Everything, right down to the pencils on the desk, was exactly the way she had last seen it. Joey had barely been able to walk through the doorway without feeling her sister's pain. It radiated off of her in waves. Forgotten dreams, broken promises, disappointments, and regretful relief had washed over Joey when Bessie had wrapped her arms around her sister.

There was forgiveness. It was there, in the tears they both shed. There was acceptance. It was there, in her sister's hand, wrapped tightly around her own as she explained the years between happiness and now. And there was love. It was there, in everything. The tea, the whispered words that carried them long into the night and early morning, and in the eyes of her nephew.

Alex was eight now, and full of curiosity. Bessie had found him hiding in the mudroom off the kitchen long after they had finished talking about the time Joey had smoked away. He looked at his aunt then, secrets and questions in his eyes, and simply said, "I like that you came home, Aunt Jo. I missed playing cars with you."

His innocence and childish strength broke her. Fresh tears trailed down her cheeks, soaking his tiny shoulder as she pulled him into her arms. She looked at Bessie then, and the last secret was shared. There was a tiny life growing in that room, in her body, and she was going to do everything she could to keep that life safe.

And suddenly, while cradling her nephew in her lap, the darkness wasn't so hard anymore.

----

"How is she doing?" Pacey leaned back in his chair, the phone cord tangling around his foot as he propped it up on his desk.

Bessie sighed on the other end of the connection, resting against the kitchen counter. "She's sleeping now. After I picked her up, I brought her home and forced some food on her. It was a little awkward at first, but once she started talking, it wasn't long until everything was out."

"Everything?" Pacey asked, hoping Bessie would catch his subtle implication that he knew there was another life at stake in this situation.

"I know about the baby, Pacey." She sighed again, afraid of the words that she was about to speak out loud. "I'm just not sure it's a good idea for her to deal with this at the same time as her recovery."

Pacey knew things would have to take this course sooner or later, he was just glad it was sooner, rather than later. "Bessie, I know this is going to hurt to hear, but I have to say it. Joey is sick. Her addiction is her disease. It's going to take a lot for her to overcome this. This baby, this life that's growing inside of her, gives her a sense of purpose. It gives her a reason to survive. In situations like this, that's usually the hardest thing to establish. Joey wants to be okay again, and this baby is giving her the strength to become the person she used to be. She needs that."

"I know, Pacey. I know that. I'm just scared for her. Is she strong enough physically to take this on? What about withdrawals? Won't that harm the baby?"

"There's always a possibility, Bess. As much as I want to be able to give you false hopes, none of us can afford to be eternally optimistic. My biggest wish in all of this is that she has this baby, and it's healthy. She needs something to keep her focused. And as much as I want her recovery about her, we both know that Joey is stronger when she's fighting for someone else. We have to work with that."

Bessie wiped away a tear, and took a deep breath, drawing in her emotions. "Pacey, I just want to say, you know, just in case I forget while we're fighting this thing... Thank you, Pacey. For walking into that room and finding her. I'm glad you're with us on this. I can't bear to think what would have happened had someone else walked into that room."

"Bessie, don't thank me. I'm just another hand for her to hold. She has to do the work."

"Just the same, Pacey. We're grateful." Bessie looked up, spotting Joey in the doorway. "I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Bess. Tell her I said hi."

"Bye Pacey."

Bessie pressed the off button the cordless phone and set it on the counter. Her eyes met Joey's and her hope evaporated in a poof of smoke when she noticed the rage.

"Discussing my case, Bess?"

"He called to make sure you were settling in okay, Jo." Bessie turned to finish the dishes, the task she had abandoned when the phone rang. "He's worried about you."

Joey fought to keep her anger from touching her sister. Her feelings, or lack there of, for Pacey didn't involve Bessie, and it wasn't fair to bring her into that. "I'm going to request another case worker, Bess. I don't think it's such a good idea to have someone I used to know working on this with me."

Bessie ran a washcloth over a plate, removing the leftover remnants of breakfast. "Why?"

"Why what, Bessie?" Joey sat on a stool and rested her arms on the counter that separated the kitchen from the breakfast nook. "Just because he used to know me doesn't mean he can help me now."

"He told me what he said, Jo. Please, please don't hold that against him. You know he's always been humble when it comes to the things he excels at. This is his career. He helps people like you everyday, and more often than not, he's successful. But he refuses to take it for granted because he thinks that the minute he 'basks in his glory', as it were, he's not going to be able to help people anymore." Bessie turned to face her sister, handing her a dishtowel as she did so. "He doesn't want your gratitude, Joey. He wants you to get better. That's his job. But what isn't his job, what he doesn't normally do in situations like this, is become emotionally invested. The moment he walked into that room and saw you, I know he felt like a failure. Whether you knew it or not, it's always been his secret mission to protect you. And he thinks he failed."

"Maybe he did."

"Joey, regardless of the past, you know Pacey can help you. You know it, just like you know you're going to do whatever you can to get better so you can give that baby what it deserves. Don't push Pacey away again. Please, Jo."

"Bessie-"

"If not for me, or even for yourself, do it for that baby."

Joey felt something shift inside of her. Maybe it was her heart softening and maybe it was the door to the past opening, but whatever it was, it made her look at her sister and nod. "Okay. Okay, Bessie."


	6. Chapter Five

"No, she hasn't called Pacey. The last time I tried getting a hold of her, her cell phone went directly to the voicemail. Just like the first ten times I tried calling. She doesn't want to talk to anyone." Bessie ran a cloth across the dining room table, tidying things for the lunch crowd at the B&B. "I'm sure she's okay, Pacey. You don't have to be so worried."

"No offense, or anything, Bessie, but you didn't see her last weekend. She was pale and skinny. Really skinny, like she hadn't been eating. She smelled like vodka and pot."

Bessie sighed, not wanting to get in the middle of her sister's issues with Pacey. The truth was, she had called, and told Bessie in no uncertain terms that she didn't want to speak to Pacey, and to tell him so if he called. "Pacey, she's at college. You said yourself she was coming home from a party. People do those kinds of things at parties. And we both know Joey has more sense than to participate. Have a little faith in her, Pacey."

Pacey shook his head, and his voice took on a pained tone. "You didn't see her eyes, Bessie. You didn't see her eyes."

"If you're that worried, go see her again. I refuse to get all bent out of shape over something that I know Joey wouldn't do. I have to go now, Pacey. Good luck with your exams."

"Yeah. Thanks, Bess."

Pacey hung up the phone feeling even more put out than he had after seeing Joey. He wanted to go see her, but he wanted to respect her request. She didn't want to see him, and he was man enough to know when to back off.

But he was also human enough to know when Joey needed him.

Grabbing his keys, he left his apartment and readied himself for seeing her again.

Maybe, just maybe, miracles did happen, and she'd be happy to see him.

----

Joey flicked the lighter again, bringing the flame to life, and brought it to the end of the bowl. The dried leaves cracked as they burned, letting off a smell akin to musky sweat and bad cheese.

She inhaled deeply, holding her breath as long as she could before exhaling.

She waited until her lungs started to burn, and then let out a puff of smoke on a laugh. "You know, Miranda, when I was in high school, I condemned anyone who even talked about smoking pot around me." She grabbed another Cheeto out of the bag sitting between them, and waited for Miranda to take her pass. "I wonder when those giraffes will be done remodeling the living room."

Miranda gave her a contemplative look as she exhaled. "Probably when they're done painting the couch."

Joey nodded, accepting this. "You're right. It would be pretty hard to label the living room as finished if they had forgotten to paint the couch."

"Well, these giraffes know their business. I'm actually kind of glad we hired them over the penguins. The long neck really is an asset."

"Joey, there's some guy at the door for you," Kenna shouted from the common room. "Says it's important."

Miranda frowned. "If it's about the bill for the living room, tell him we're not paying until the couch is painted."

Joey winked at her. "Don't worry. He won't get a dime out of me."

She made her way to the door, stopping to compliment the giraffe next to the end table on his flamboyant use of color on the ceiling fan. Kenna shook her head in amusement and joined Miranda in the bedroom to give her some privacy.

"Pacey!" Joey exclaimed, reaching the doorway. "When did you start working for GU?"

"What?"

"GU. Giraffes Unlimited. They're redoing the living room." Joey gestured around the room with her hand. "I'm not going to pay you until the couch is painted, though."

"Jo, are you all right?" Pacey edged his way around her into the room. The smell hit him immediately. "You're high."

She grinned at him. "Yeah. I'll share if you want. I got it for free anyway." She leaned in conspiratorially, and whispered in his ear, "Perks of having a vagina."

"Let's go get something to eat, Jo. I want to talk to you."

"Food? I love food." Joey grabbed her coat off the hook next to the door and walked out the door ahead of Pacey.

"Uh, Joey?"

"Yeah?" She whirled around, grabbing on to his shoulders when she lost her balance.

Her eyes were glassy, and she reeked of the drug that he could smell in her dorm room. She looked horrible, and all he wanted to do was bundle her up and carry her off to safety. "You need your left shoe."

She collapsed into a fit of laughter then, dropping to her knees on the floor. "What do I need a shoe for, Pacey?"

"Joey, I'm going to come back later. When you're not so..."

She cocked her head to the side, and looked at him as he trailed off. "High?" she finished for him. "I may be high, Pacey, but I still remember telling you to leave me alone." She shook her head, climbing to her feet. "Learn to listen."

He stepped back as though she had hit him, and watched, for the second time in a week, as the woman he knew he loved more than anything walked away from him again.

She shut the door, without a sound, but to Pacey, it was the loudest noise he had ever heard.

----

Pacey waited outside the office of his freshman advisor's office. His appointment had been at one-thirty, and it was already past two. He had paced. He had finished a crossword in a discarded People Magazine. He had renamed everyone in his contacts list on his phone.

The door edged open, and he caught the end of a conversation.

"We found drug paraphernalia in her room. It's grounds for expulsion. Campus police has already notified her parents, and right now they're escorting her off the grounds."

Pacey felt a chill run down his spine. iWhat if that happens to Joey/i, he thought. If she got kicked out of school, Bessie would kill her.

He pushed the thoughts from his head for the moment as his advisor called him into his office.

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Witter?"

"I'd like to declare my major."

"Kind of early for a decision like that, don't you think?"

"Let's call it an epiphany. I want to be a social worker. And I want to specialize in drug-use prevention."


	7. Chapter Six

"She's eighteen weeks along." The doctor closed his flip chart and leaned back in his chair. "She's hasn't gained a sufficient amount of weight at this point to guarantee a safe birth. We're looking at premature labor and worse case scenario, still birth."

Pacey sat up in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees. "There's still a chance though, right?"

"There's always a chance, Mr. Witter. But with Ms. Potter's history with drugs and her own admission to starving herself when she first found out she was pregnant, it's a very, slim, almost minute chance."

"She starved herself?" Bessie whispered, reminding Pacey that she was in the room. She had been so quiet through the exam and then while the doctor had been going over the results that Pacey had forgotten she was there. "She didn't tell me."

The doctor nodded somberly. "She had a hard time saying it out loud to me. I can't imagine it would have been much easier to her sister. Ms. Potter, I am going to do everything medically possible to make sure that your sister delivers a healthy, happy baby. She's going to need the both of you during the next six four and a half months. You're going to have to make sure she eats, gets enough rest, and most of all stays healthy."

Pacey gripped Bessie's had and faced the doctor. "She's going to have this baby. She has to. Right now, it's the only thing keeping her alive."

"As a friend, Mr. Witter, I'd like to say that it would be wise for you to keep your objection in this case. I know you have history with Ms. Potter, but allowing your feelings to come between your job and her health aren't going to help her any."

Pacey dropped his head, fearful of the tears that had filled his eyes. "It was my feelings that started this whole thing in the first place."

"Thank you, Dr. Bowden. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us." Bessie stood, urging Pacey to do the same. She knew what that admission had cost him, and she could almost feel the pain radiating off of him.

She waited until they were pulling out of the parking lot to speak again. "I hate seeing the both of you like this, Pacey."

He kept his eyes on the road, needing the focus, the mundane task to keep him sane. To keep him calm. "I know, Bess. There's just really nothing more we can do to make this happen sooner. The fact that Joey is still there, letting the doctors poke and prod at her for the next two days is miracle enough at this point. All we can do now is pray."

"Pacey, don't listen to what that doctor said. She needs you now more than ever."

"If I hadn't been such an ass to her our freshman year, she might not have ended up like this."

"That's awfully selfish of you, Witter," Bessie snapped. She turned in the seat to look at him, arrogance in her posture.

"Excuse me?" He glanced at her, and incredulous look on his face. "How is accepting my failure in this selfish?"

She shook her head, sadness clouding her eyes. "You're not accepting your failure. You're taking all of the blame. Sure, if you ask me, had you been a little more supportive during that year, things might not have gotten _as_ bad. But they still wouldn't have been sunshine and rainbows, either. Joey has always been impressionable. She's always had that naive side, and she's always been a little more insecure than she needed to be. It really doesn't matter that you weren't there as much as you should have been. What matters is that Joey made her choice, and it led her here." She wiped at a tear that had escaped. "I don't know about you, but I'm glad that she is here, now, with us. She didn't have it easy before, the time that is waiting ahead for her isn't going to get any easier. If you want to help her, you have to stop blaming yourself and start loving her."

"Just tell me one thing. This advice that you're handing out. Is it one-sided?"

Bessie chuckled humorlessly. "I have to face myself everyday in the mirror, and fight against the disgust that I feel for my reflection. I let her down as much as you did, if not more. My biggest battle won't be finding a way to offer her support. It's going to be forgiving myself for letting her down."

He nodded, glancing quickly in the rearview mirror to before changing lanes. "We're only human, Bess. I'll tell you like I tell everyone that I've worked with, and will work with. We can only take it one day at a time."

Bessie laughed again, the sound genuine, and foreign to both their ears. "That's a bunch of bullshit."

Pacey smiled at her. "I'm a social worker. Not a philosopher."

----

"When am I getting released?" Joey swung her legs over the side of the hospital bed, anxious to get out. She hated hospitals. She hated police stations. She hated anyplace that was filled with people that tried to run your life for you. "I want out of here."

Pacey sat in the chair by the window flipping through a magazine, pretending to ignore her. She'd been asking to leave for the last three hours, and she'd only been there for five. Of course, he knew that a minute in a hospital was often too long, for just about anyone. "You're in til Thursday afternoon. There are some tests the doctor wants to run, and they can't be run unless you're under observation."

She snorted, disgust evident in the gesture. "I'm not going to go running off for a fix if that's what all of you are worried about. It's been a week now. The worst of it has passed and it's not so hard to get through a day without inhaling something."

"That's not what we're worried about, Jo." Pacey tossed the magazine back in it's rack and got up to sit next to her on the bed. "While they were running the first couple of tests, Bessie and I spoke to your doctor. Things aren't exactly idyllic for you, Joey. There are a lot of risks we're taking here."

"We're? Who's we, Pacey? The only one here risking anything is me. I know that I could die. I know that this baby could die. But I have to try." She got up to pace the room, her hospital issued slippers whispering across the tile floor. "I don't think you understand how important that is to me. Without this, there's no reason to try. No reason to get better."

"That's a lot of pressure for one little baby, Jo. That's a lot of pressure for you." He waited until she had stopped pacing and turned to look at him. "That's why the doctor insisted on all of these tests. He wants to help you as much as Bessie and I do. He wants to see this baby live. He wants to see you live."

Joey sat on the bed, placing her hand in his. "I know that I keep flip-flopping in regards to how I feel about you helping with this, but I need you to know that having you here does help. Not just because this is what you do for a living, but because you know me. Even after all those years of nothing between us, you still know me. The core of me, the things that can't, and won't ever change. You'll always be the person who knows me best, Pacey. No matter what I do to try to change me." She rested her head on his shoulder. "It's always been you."

----

Joey lay in the hospital bed, the only light in the room spilling from the bathroom. Her hand rested on the small bulge that was forming at her waistline, and her eyes stared out the window.

Things had changed for her. They had changed fast, and drastically.

And it was because of that that she was uncertain whether these new feelings she had were genuine.

Although, if she were to be truthful, she'd have to say that they were old feelings, sparked by the match that Pacey had lit beneath her.

Her world had always seemed bigger and brighter when he had been there, and now that he was here, she found herself hoping for things she had no business thinking about.

She had stopped dreaming about love and children and happiness a long time ago, and she didn't think it was fair for fate to throw those things back in her face.

The moment Pacey had kissed her; she had fallen face first in love with him. Everything twisted itself so that I was about him. She worked hard in school because she needed him to be proud of her. She experimented with makeup and clothes and started working out because she wanted him to want her.

But then she had found out about Courtney. Her world, already balance precariously on the edge, had tumbled and crashed.

There were still pieces of her missing. The small parts that meant so much...

So small that you didn't notice they were missing until they were shoved behind the couch with all the dust and the back of the remote control you lost months ago.

You keep reminding yourself to move the couch and clean behind it, but something else always becomes more important.

For her, those 'more important' things had become getting high and ditching class and fucking.

She finally just forgot to clean behind her figurative couch, and she had ended up here.

Pregnant, sick, and falling in love with the man she used to blame for everything.

A single, solitary tear burned a path down her cheek as she turned her head to concentrate on sleep.

"I can't love you, Pacey. I don't have enough for you and this baby."


End file.
